A Very Nonsensical Parody
by Caty Tarleton
Summary: Yet another parody of the Patriot. Tons of nonsense, may or may not be funny. Ever wonder how Martin got his nickname "The Banjo"?
1. Chapter 1

**There is no seriousness in this at all. This is going deep into the realm of the nonsensical. Will also probably contain large amounts of stupidity, since yours truly has the mind of a twelve year old. **

**Disclaimer: No, I do not own the Patriot, the characters, blah blah blah. The "Rethink that move, son," quote is from a show called Parks and Rec. **

Ah, mornings. The time that all (or most) human beings wake up cursing, because they do not want to haul their asses out of bed. Morning is an unhappy time. Not for Benjamin "Banjo" Martin, though. No, to him morning is a happy time, where the small forest critters frolic and the birdies sing along with him. That was not the case. His voice was horrendous, the birdies died. (Trust me, these details are important later.) He stepped out onto the porch, and drew in a deep breath, getting ready to-yes you guessed it- sing. However, a stop was put to _that. _

"FATHER, NO! YOU CAN'T SING!"

Benjamin spun around to face his eldest son, glaring. "What did you say to me, boy? Did you say I can't sing?"

Gabriel frantically shook his head. "Er, no, I said 'Father, breakfast is ready'!"

Martin took a step forward. "You lyin' to me now, boy?"

"No, breakfast really is ready. No, please don't hurt me, ABIGAIL! HELP ME!" Gabriel screamed, running away. Benjamin shook his head, grumbling that Gabriel had got away... this time.

Later on, a mail person came and dropped off some dru- _  
><em>

"No he didn't!" Benjamin shouted, laughing nervously, shoving some bundles into his shirt. "These are, ah, medicine, children, for my sore back."

_As I was saying_, the mail man dropped off the... _mail_... and left. Gabriel tried picking up one of the envelopes, but jumped back as an axe landed on the table, quivering next to the mail. He turned his terrified eyes to look at his father, who once again glared at him. _  
><em>

"Rethink that move, son," Benjamin said softly. Gabriel held up his hands.

"I- I won't mess with them father, I promise!"

"Make sure you don't", was his reply. Benjamin scooped up the letters into his shirt, and hid in his room, telling Gabriel to keep an eye on the rest of the children. As soon as Benjamin's door shut, the eldest turned to the younger children with an evil smile.

"Ya hear that? _I'm_ the boss now!" They gulped and backed away as Gabriel laughed maniacally.

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><p><strong>I apologize if this is very short and not very good or funny. I always find it hard to make the very first chapters in my parodies funny. Plus, I am no comedian, though I like to think otherwise. *sigh* There is more coming, rest assured, and hopefully, it'll be funnier. Any suggestions or ideas are always welcome, as is criticism. Next chapter coming soon. <strong>


	2. Chapter 2

** Well, here it is. Next chapter. Hope you enjoy!**

**And nope, I don't own The Patriot or any of the characters.**

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><p><em>"Oh Gabriel, you're so handsome!"<em>

_"And you are beautiful, my sweet, precious Anne."_

_"Oh Gabriel, let us get married! Right at this moment!"_

_"Anything that pleases you, my sweet."_

A hard whack across the back of his head brought Gabriel out of his wonderful, yet very embarrassing, dream. He sat up, swearing.

"Who just fucki-" he was cut off by Benjamin hitting him again.

"It's me, boy! And don't ever cuss like that again, ya hear? I'll have yer hide, ya hear?"

Gabriel nodded. "Yes sir. I won't ever do that again sir."

"Make sure you don't. Oh, and we're going to Charles Town. Wake the children up and get them ready."

Gabriel was confused. "We're leaving now? But... shouldn't we pack some things first?"

"No need. We're staying with your aunt, who may I remind you, is rich as balls. She'll provide us with clothing when we get there, I am sure."

He was still confused, because he wasn't very bright, but nodded and obeyed his father's orders. They arrived days late. The reasons being that a carriage wheel broke, and luckily a friend of Martin's had come along and helped repair it, but that lead to that friend inviting them over to stay a few days, an offer Martin couldn't _possibly _resist. That lead to five days of drunken carousing, leaving the poor Martin children more traumatized than last time.

But, arrive there they did, and Aunt Charlotte was none too pleased.

"Oh, that damn pig! And Gabriel- that boy will turn out just like his father! I can see it!" Charlotte sighed. "He really should have accepted my offer and let _me _raise his children. I pity them, I do," she muttered. They pulled up into the courtyard and she plastered on a fake smile. "Oh, children! It's so good to see you again! What have you been feeding them?"

"Corn and beer." At Charlotte's horrified expression, he smiled and lied, "I am jesting. You know, the normal. Food, water, ale... occasionally beer."

"That is... oh, never mind. Come inside, there are presents and supper is almost ready."

One of Charlotte's servants opened the door and they all went inside. _Oh, great. I am so excited to hear Benjamin boast about the Frenchmen he hacked up. Those poor children. _

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><p>No one had to listen to his stories for long, as it just so happened that a riot started in the street. They all stepped out on the porch to watch it. Among fighting and hanging dummies, vile, vile words were yelled. Benjamin and Gabriel, instead of being good influences joined in, yelling such sentences as "King George eats ass!" and "Loyalists will go to hell!". Charlotte covered Susan's ears and led the children inside, deciding that perhaps reading a story to them was better than watching a riot after all.<p>

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><p>Meanwhile back outside, Gabriel had spotted Anne.<p>

"Anne! Anne! Hey Anne!" He waved, trying to catch her attention. He leaned to far on the railing and some of it broke off, taking him with it. She rolled her eyes and returned to watching more interesting things.

"Hey Anne." She jumped. Gabriel held out a flower pot he had picked up and grinned, showing broken teeth.

"How-? When-? But you fell from the porch, you should have died!"

He was unfazed. "Yer hot." He giggled like a twelve year old girl talking to her first crush. Yes, he did that.

"Piss off. I hate you." She stormed off. "Daddy! That creepy Martin boy is bothering me again!"

"I love you too!"


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: Don't own it, don't claim to own it._  
><em>**

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><p>"Patriots eat ass!"<p>

"Nuh uh, Loyalists do! _And _they'll go to hell for it!"

The judge lifted the hammer and banged it on the other... thing... that judges' hammers bang on (no double entendre meant there, I swear) and the room quieted immediately. "Silence! You are all acting like a bunch of rowdy, immature children! I'll have none of that, not in _my _courthouse! And for the love of the gods, can we please stop using the insult 'eats ass'?!" The judge sighed. "Now, Colonel Burwell, you may speak first."

"Thank you. Now, I am no orator..." and so he droned on and on for weeks, about his dog, about his kids, his messed up love life, and finally, Bunker's Hill. "The British are mean and nasty poopyheads and we must kill them all!" he cried. "It's their fault my mistress left me!"

Er, if I may say so Colonel Burwell, didn't she leave you back in the 1760's?

"That's... that's irrelevant!"

Um, no, no it's not. My point being that you cannot blame the British for the fact that you're so ugly your mistress left you. A long time ago.

"HOW DARE YOU!"

Alas, I am a big meanie.

Meanwhile, though amused, everyone else was wondering where the hell that voice was coming from. Ha. Bow down, m'bitches.

"Anywayyysss... " the judge spoke, completely weirded out. "I believe we've spent enough time here. War it is!" He banged the gavel (now I remember it's name! Ah. Hahah.) and the court was dispersed.

A boy ran out on the steps and yelled, "PARTY HARD! WE'RE GONNA KILL SOME BRITS!"

Everyone cheered.

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><p><strong>This is a short chapter, but I plan to update again sometime today or tomorrow. Also, I truly could not remember what the gavel was called. ;-;<strong>


	4. Chapter 4

**Here's chapter four for ya. Oh, and my most heartfelt thanks to Rosemary Tarleton, Edorenel, and Guest for your kind reviews. They are the fuel for this writer! I wish I could give you all a hug and some of the candy I have tonight. As it is... *sighs* Anyways, the next chapter. **

**Disclaimer: Nah, don't own it. **

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><p><em>Sneaky, sneaky. <em>Martin was caught up in a conversation with Colonel Burwell, and so could not properly keep an eye on his eldest son. And let me say, he had to have an eye kept on him quite often, otherwise he did something stupid... like what he was doing at the moment. Casting one last glance at his father to make sure he was still engrossed, he turned back toward the recruitment table and chuckled. _Heehee. I am so sneaky. Francis Marion has nothing on me!_

"What did you say?!" Everyone turned to see a red-faced... Banastre Tarleton?! "Don't you dare ever speak that name again!"

What the _fuck_, you aren't even supposed to be here right now! You don't even know who Francis Marion is yet!

"But I do!"

No you don't. Now leave. This is Tavington's movie, not yours. And so the narrator pushed a _very _wounded Tarleton out of the picture, though he admittedly felt better after she had shared some of her chocolate candy with him. Now, we will get back to the important stuff.

Everyone was silent for a few more moments, then continued whatever they were doing. Gabriel signed his name on the recruitment paper, and cackled. Perhaps a bit too loudly than was wise.

"Boy, what in the devil do you think you're doing?!"

"What does it look like?"

"Don't you get that tone with me, boy! I'm your father!"

"La la la, I don't have to listen to you anymore you mean old druggie, la la la!"

"I am _not _a druggie! Gabriel, you get back here- _GABRIEL!_"

But it was too late. Gabriel had run away; he was gone, lost forever!

Benjamin broke down, sobbing. "He didn't even remember his teddy bear!"

Burwell placed a hand on his shoulder. "I'll keep an eye on him. Now, stop crying!"

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><p><strong>This one was kind of short, too. I'm sorry about that. Some candy? *holds some chocolate out* *Tarleton reaches out* *author slaps his hand* No, not for <em>you. <em>You had yours. This is for the readers. **

**Ahem, anyways, hope you enjoyed! And sorry if the character/ narrator conversations are kind of cheesy, I can't resist sometimes. But I'll try to keep them on a down low. As always, reviews are welcome, as are suggestions and constructive criticism. :) Hope you have a lovely day/evening wherever you are!**


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter fiiive! (No, I have not been drinking, why do you ask?) I was going to update sooner but I've been busy with other projects and I've been dealing with some other issues, BUT here it is and I hope you enjoy it. :)**

**Disclaimer: No, I don't own it, or the characters. **

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><p>"Father, you need to get up."<p>

"No."

"Father, please, it's been too long. The grass hasn't been mowed! We need food! Did you know last night we've had to _eat the floor?!_" Thomas exclaimed.

"Yeah, by the way, the parlor needs a new floor," Nathan added.

"Goddamn you kids, all of you! All I want is peace and quiet so I can mourn my favorite son! Who is probably dead! And all you care about is filling your damn stomach!

"It's basic human needs! Oh, and he's not dead. Here's a letter from him."

Ben jumped off the bed and grabbed the letter. "Why didn't you tell me in the first place? When did we get this?"

"Eh, about two weeks ago."

"_What. Why the hell did you never tell me."_

"I... forgot?"

Benjamin looked as if he was about to strangle Thomas, so the boys decided it best if they skedaddled out of there.

"My wife birthed a bunch of idiots," he mumbled. "Not from _my _side of the family though, we're the most intelligent ones in the county." He was obviously forgetting all the dumb fatal accidents that had occurred in his family. Anyways, he opened the letter. It said:

"_Deer fathur,_

_I am dooing weel. I shoot a gun. Peepol dye. It verry bad. Taveentun cut up sum peepol. I stil hate yoo. Patritotism._

_ Gabreeil. _"

Tears ran down Ben's face. "Dumbass still can't spell right." He sniffed and wiped his face with a handkerchief. "Still good to hear from him though. Well, I guess I should start taking care of the farm."

"Yes, it's about damn time!"

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><p>Anne was having a very good day, until that letter arrived.<p>

_"Deer Ann,_

_Yoo r verry pritty. Merry me?"_

She scowled, and hastily wrote under the words: "_No. Do not ask me again. And learn how to spell, dammit!"_

She handed it to the mail dude and returned to her chores.

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><p>Meanwhile, back in Charles Town the British had taken over, much to the Patriot's chagrin. There was much wine and partying, and it got so rowdy that many of the Patriots decided to leave, Charlotte included. Tavington and his dragoons replaced the 'Welcome to Charles Town' sign with 'Party 247. Every day, every night.'

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><p>Back at the Martin farm, they continued on as normal. Every now and then they received a letter from Gabriel, but they were mostly for his younger siblings because as he stated before, he still hated Ben.<p>

They heard about the war sometimes, and some dude named Tavington, but Ben wasn't scared. They would always have the farm and their peace, and he would have his dru- *notices glares* fine, _beer. _He would always have his _beer. _

But alas, he wouldn't! Dun dun dunnn!

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><p><strong>Again, thanks for the kind reviews in the last chapter! I really appreciate it! :3 Comments, no matter what type, are always welcome! (Though, if you don't like this, it would be nice to know the reasons why, because if it's something I can fix, I will try my best to fix it.) <strong>

**Anyways, much love! 3 **


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter six. I would like to say, I am terribly sorry I've taken awhile to update this. I've had a lot of personal things going on which were pretty stressful, BUT** **all is tolerably well now, and**** I'm able to write. SO much more relaxing... **

**Disclaimer: No, I _do not _own the Patriot. I do not own any quotes from Monty Python and the Holy Grail either... **

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><p>Morning. Yeah, that time again. Ugh. <em>Anyways, <em>it had been quite chaotic, with Gabriel arriving the night before, and then wounded soldiers filling their yard and porch. Abigail sent Nathan and Samuel down to the creek with buckets to get more water for the wounded, because though they had a well right behind their house, a little more extra work wouldn't hurt them would it?

As they scooped water up, they did not notice the dead bodies floating around the stream until one hit Nathan. Who screamed. And ran back to the house, Samuel following. Like they usually do.

"Now, what the hell you doing with no bucket and no water, like I asked?"

The boys were too frightened to do anything but shake.

"Hm? Give me an answer!"

"A-Abigail... bodies... down by the stream..."

"What, those? That's just dead people! Now go bring those buckets back and make sure they have water in them!"

The boys scrambled away, finishing what was the hardest task so far in their life. Later a soldier would write: "...we had been stuck at that farm for days... and the water they gave us was positively vile! There was an eye in my water! A fucking eye!" He ended the letter, which was sent to his wife with: "I had bladder infection for months after." She replied back: "Whine to someone who cares, Ronald."

Martin stepped out onto the porch, beginning to sing what he thought was a healing song, when the poor soldiers, children, and basically everyone within the vicinity's eardrums were saved by the timely intervention of... Gabriel chucking his bag of dispatch papers at Benny boy's head.

Yeah, you thought it was going to be Tavington, weren't you? Alas, not just yet. Though he would have loved to be a hero, his asshole tendencies won out and he was eager to watch everyone suffer from the bushes instead. Seeing Gabriel chuck the bag and save the day, he swore and threw a mini fit.

Martin collapsed and fell on a soldier's legs, the same poor soldier who found an eye in his water.

"Eww! Get it off! Getitoffgetitoffgetitofffff!" He finally managed to push Martin off of him. "I have had enough! If my legs weren't broken, I would shoot all you lot right now!"

"Leave the shooting to me, please."

"Oh, _now _you decide to show up."

"Be quiet! Now, give me that bag of dispatches, so I can have a reason to burn this hideous place down."

"You _knew _they were dispatches?" Gabriel's mouth fell open in astonishment.

Tavington rolled his eyes. "It says so right on the bag. Oh, by the way, you're arrested and will be hung... eh, probably by the road."

"_What. _That's not fair!"

"Life's not fair, buckaroo, learn that now. Oh right. You will, because you're going to die soon."

"That's wrong and evil and sadistic! Who made you Colonel anyway?"

"Um, I got promoted?"

Gabriel sniffed. "Well, _I _didn't vote for you."

"That's not something you vote for, this isn't future America, in the military you get promoted! Now, men, arrest him!"

"Help!" Gabriel cried as they started to drag him away. "Help, I'm being repressed!"

Ben came to with a start. "House... isn't hideous... WHY ARE THEY DRAGGING MY SON AWAY?"

"Oh ew, it's awake." Tavington's features twisted in disgust.

"WHY ARE YOU TAKING MY SON FROM ME?!"

"He was committing an act of treason by carrying dispatches, now mind your own, old man."

"THIS IS MY OWN!"

"Stop yelling! Now will you leave me alone, or shall I have to teach you a lesson of war?" He pointed a gun at Martin.

"Pfft, go ahead. It's not like I won't respawn again."

"Perhaps your children...?" The gun shifted towards the children, who whimpered and hid behind Abigail.

Again, Martin did not care. "So? It costs too much to feed 'em, anyways."

Tavington nearly dropped his gun. "What? What? You won't even try to defend them? What the hell type of father does that?!"

"Yeah, like you would know what a real father is like," Martin said snarkily.

Tavington had had enough. He shot Martin, who fell backwards in the most dramatic manner. Silence. No one made a sound, no one moved a muscle.

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><p><strong>Sorry this wasn't very long, again, but I am currently not feeling well so... next chapter will definitely be longer! Anyways, hope you enjoyed. <strong>


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter seven. (Sorry this took a while to update. I've been kinda lazy these past weeks. An understatement, I know.)**

**Disclaimer: If I owned it, I'd be rich. Maybe.** **Which**** I am not. So I don't own it. **

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><p>No one moved a muscle... no, that's not true. As soon as the initial shock wore off, everyone threw a party. It only lasted a minute however, as the author had to resurrect Martin (with apologies to the rest of the characters).<p>

"What is going on?"

"Aww, come _on!_" Thomas yelled. "You were supposed to be dead! Er, I mean, welcome back Father, we missed you."

"I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that and pay attention to the matter at hand." He faced Tavington. "Give me my son back."

"I don't think I will..."

"Please! I'll beg! I'll cry! I'll give you my-"

"Shut up, for the love of the gods!"

"No! I want my son back!"

"You're not getting your son back!"

"I don't wanna go back!"

"Shut your mouth, Gabriel!"

Gabriel sulked.

"He's going to hang, and that's final."

"Not if I can help it!" A scratchy teenager voice boomed out.

"What the fuck?!" Tavington, Martin, and Gabriel cried out simultaneously as they looked up. On the roof stood Thomas, dressed in nothing but his underclothes and a blanket-turned-cape. ( "That's just not right," Tavington said.)

"Thomas, no one has time for your nonsense right now! Can't you see your brother is about to die?!"

"I know! I'm going to save him!" And with that he took hold of a rope (which was miraculously attached to something-no one knew what), and leaped off the roof, not heeding his father's orders.

"Gabriel I'll save youuuu-" a gun shot abruptly cut his yelling off. He fell to the ground in a heap. Martin walked over to him and kicked him in the side.

"You see, Thomas? Do you see what happens when you disobey your parent?! You get hurt, that's what! Stop being stupid! Now get up and go change your clothes!"

"F-Father, I'm dy-dying." He coughed up blood.

"Oh look, and now you're getting blood all over yourself! Do you ever learn?" Ben gave him another kick. Thomas coughed up more blood.

Meanwhile Tavington had his head in his hands. "Somebody, save me from these idiots!"

When Benjamin _finally _realized what had happened, Thomas was already dead, and his house had been set on fire. He looked to his left and saw that Gabriel and the soldiers were gone. He turned his rage-filled eyes on Tavington.

"I want donuts."

"Well, you're not getting any!" Tavington cried, clutching the donuts he was eating to himself. He shoved them into his My Little Pony lunchbox and kicked his mount's flanks, sending it into a gallop. The rest of the dragoons followed, leaving the Martins to themselves once more, minus a home, food (nope, not even the corn), and a sibling. Yikes. After a brutal killing rampage, in which the two stooges were dragged along with him and they retrieved Gabriel, they buried Thomas. Five of the siblings stood over his grave, Gabriel sat weeping on a log nearby, and "Banjo" was off somewhere doing whatever.

"Somewhere, he's up in heaven, in a corner reserved for him," Margaret said as she sniffled.

"And he can wear all the blanket capes he wants without getting yelled at," added Nathan. Gabriel's weeping grew louder. His siblings looked over at him.

"It's okay, Gabriel, Thomas still loved you," Samuel said.

"What? I wasn't crying for Thomas, I was crying over my lost freedom! Though, now you mention it, that's one less sibling I can't tease now." Gabriel frowned, then yelped as a log was chucked at him. "What was that for?!"

"He was our brother, you big meanie!"

"I'll punch you for that!"

"Why don't ya, I'll just punch ya back!"

It was at this moment that Benjamin showed up, luckily because a sibling cat fight was about to break out. Or maybe not lucky.

"Do you guys see the flying sea turtle?"

"What?"

"Father, are you alright?"

Benjamin laughed. "Yes, yes I'm quite fine. Say, do you guys see the flying sea turtle over there?"

"Ugh, he's on something again. Now I have to get you all ready and take you someplace safe again," Gabriel whined.

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><p>"Ma'am, people comin'!"<p>

Charlotte groaned as she stood up and swept across the room toward the window. "Can I not have one day's solitu- OH SHIT NOT HIM!" She staggered back from the window. "No notice or anything either! The rudest man, I swear!" Just then, they knocked. Sighing, she went downstairs and answered it. She wasn't surprised when she saw Martin snoring in the wagon.

"Got drunk again?"

"Yeah. And I think something else, too. Anyways, our home was burned down by that meannastypoopyhead Tavington, and we need a place to stay. Well, _they _need a place to stay, I'm heading back to the army soon as I can."

Benjamin quickly sat up. "No," he said, then fell back down.

"Yeah, yeah, you guys can stay here. But your father must sleep in the dog house."

Gabriel and the young ones exchanged startled glances. "Uh, I don't think he'll-"

"I don't care! I don't want to hear anymore stories about how he hacked up the Frenchman, or him wrecking my house. Nope, he's staying in the dog house."

"Do dog houses even exist yet?"

Charlotte shrugged. "Don't care, all that I know is that there's one in the back yard. I'll throw food out to him every once in a while. But you guys hurry and bring your things in. I'll have a servant carry him out back."

Gabriel was now 100% sure all his family were psychopaths.

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><p>At first everything was blurry, and he couldn't figure out why he was so cold or his knees were shoved in his face. But then as his vision became better, he figured out he was in a small house of sorts. And he had a collar around his neck.<p>

"What in all that is unholy."

The damn thing was small, too. He couldn't move his limbs an inch, though he tried. He was stuck, until someone came to save him, and he had no clue where he was even. He did the only thing that came natural to him: singing. He sang what he thought was a "come help me song" (maybe the woodland critters would help him?), but it came out more as an odd, strangled sounded banshee wail. It was also known as the Wild Call of the Martins.

Tavington and his dragoons, who were scouting several miles off, heard it and wondered what it was. As so elegantly put by Tavington: "What in the devil is that _unholy _screeching?"

Back at the house, it's inhabitants were trying their best to ignore it and try to sleep, but it was near impossible at this point. They yelled, they threatened, they threw things at the dog house, but he would still not shut up. When one of the servants made the-smart, may I say-suggestion that they take him out, he was sharply reprimanded by Charlotte, who wanted nothing more than for Benjamin to suffer. Annoying screeching or not, he was staying in there! She'd just have to order ear muffs for them.

Though technically this is the 18th century and laptops or phones don't exist. Let's just say Charlotte's ahead of her time.

The wailing, screeching? Wail-screeching? _The horrific sounds Martin emitted from his throat _finally stopped around 5:30, as his throat got too sore, and he fell asleep. Charlotte and the kids did not know that they, too, had dozed off, and she sat up when she realized the noise had finally died down.

"Yes! Yes! Now for some peace and quiet!"

Then it started up again. She tossed a book out the window.

"ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?!"

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><p><strong>So, this probably isn't as long as I'd have liked it to be, but it's finally written, right? If anyone is reading this, I'm sorry if updates are sporadic sometimes. Sometimes I get busy with stuff and other written projects, and sometimes I'm just plain lazy and need to kick myself in the butt to update again. Anyways, hope you enjoy, and I'll try to get the next chapter updated soon! Maybe with some longer chapters too. :) Thanks for any reviews this parody has gotten so far, I really, really appreciate it! <strong>


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